


The Russian Tent Assassination

by Elsey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dyatlov Pass, Hypothermia, M/M, Russia, friends to boyfriends, mountain climbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 09:09:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3244121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsey/pseuds/Elsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester and his best friend, Castiel Novak, are conquering the daunting Dyatlov's Pass in Russia, and, on the first night, they find that their second tent is destroyed. With one tent and two grown men, the night is sure to be an interesting one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Russian Tent Assassination

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by a post written by carrionofmywaywardson on Tumblr.

Dean steps onto the snow, hands at his side as he inhales deeply. “You smell that, Cas?” He turns his head to find his best friend just behind him, shivering in the cold.

“S-smells like it’s f-fucking f-freezing!” Castiel stutters.

“I think you meant ADVENTURE!” Cas rolls his eyes before he pushes Dean, who slips in the snow and falls face first onto an icy patch. “Someone’s in a bad mood.”

“S-sorry,” Cas says, rushing forwards and helping Dean up. Dean brushes him off, adjusting his snowshoes before clapping Cas on the shoulder and moving forwards up the mountain. An hour later, they stop, Cas calling out that he can’t take another step. They set up camp nearly a fourth of the way up the mountain, Cas going to set up the tents and Dean starting the fire.

“What do you want for dinner?” Dean calls out. “We can have… beans, or beans!”

“I think I want beans,” Cas tells him jokingly, suddenly right beside Dean.

“Jesus, you’re gonna give me a damn heart attack!” Dean yelps.

“We only brought one tent,” Castiel informs him gravely.

“What? No! I packed two!”

“I think you’re lying, because there’s only one tent.” Dean glowers at Castiel before rising from the snow, brushing off the front of his snow pants.

“Watch the fire, and allow me to prove your dumbass wrong,” Dean says, marching over to where Cas had the first tent up and ready. He digs through Cas’s pack, triumphantly pulling out the second tent. “What did I tell you?” Dean yells over the wind. Cas stands to go join him, hands on his hips.

“I think you told me that they were both in your pack!” Castiel snaps.

“No, I said we had one each!” Dean begins to set up the tent while Cas rolls his eyes and goes back to the fire, when he notices that there’s a problem- the tent has three holes in. And not small, ‘we can patch those’ kind of holes- big ones. When did this happen? Dean frowns as he turns the tent canvas over in his hands. He walks over to the fire, waving at Cas, who has the beans in a pot over the fire.

“So, problem- you must’ve stabbed holes in this or it got ripped some other time or something. Sorry, man,” Dean says, dropping the tent in between them. Cas sighs.

“It’s fine. It’s not l-like we’ve never sh-shared a bed before,” Cas says, wrapping his arms around himself and shivering. Dean takes his own arm and puts it around Castiel’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“You okay, man? I thought you said you were ready for this hike,” Dean says, feeling Cas’s body shivering beside him.

“Ye-yeah, I’m g-good. It’s just really c-cold,” Castiel replies.

“Well it’s a mountain. In the winter. Covered in snow.” Castiel glares at him.

“St-top being such a sm-smartass,” Castiel grumbles.

“At least I’m smarter than you!” Dean chirps. Castiel rolls his eyes, going back to the beans and moving them around in the pot.

Dinner goes by quickly, and soon dark sets in. They set up the tent a bit further from the fire than they should have, because Cas has a fear of fire that Dean really can’t explain, especially since it was his mom that died in one, so he puts the fire out rather than letting it burn out on its own. They take off their layers, Dean sleeping in just his underwear, while Castiel opts for a sweater and flannel pants, and crawl into the tent into their separate sleeping bags.

Dean awakes in the night to the sound of teeth chattering. Groaning, he rolls over onto his side, finding Cas rolled into a tight ball, shaking violently.

“Cas?” Dean asks, shifting in the sleeping bag and moving closer to him. Dean reaches out his hand, shaking his friend’s shoulder. “Cas, hey, wake up!” Dean gives him another, harder shake and Cas’s eyes snap open. He turns to Dean, sliding further under the sleeping bag and lets out a moan.

“What do you want?” Cas mutters.

“Dude, you’re teeth chattering woke me up. Are you okay?”

“I’m fucking freezing,” Cas snaps at him. Dean flinches back at his tone and Cas sighs through his shivering breaths. “I’m so-sorry. Just. Just c-cold.”

“Well,” Dean says, biting his lip, “we could always. Y’know.” He makes vague hand gestures. Cas’s eyebrow arches.

“No,” he says, “I don’t know.”

“Body heat, Cas. Body heat.” Cas’s eyes widen slightly.

“Oh. Yes. B-body heat.”

“Oh just shut up and move over,” Dean grumbles, sliding out of his sleeping bag and crawling into Castiel’s.

“Ow! Dean, y-your elbow is really p-pointy!” Cas complains as Dean snuggles up next to him. When Dean finally stops moving, he and Cas are face to face. “You smell like beans.” Dean lets loose a laugh.

“Yeah, because you smell like unicorn farts yourself, pal,” Dean teases. Castiel rolls his eyes. They’re both quiet, the only sound their shallow breathing, Castiel’s chattering, and the howling wind. When, after a solid ten minutes, Castiel doesn’t seem much warmer, Dean grows concerned. “You feeling any warmer?”

“N-not really,” Castiel admits. Dean sighs.

“It’s the layers, man. Take off that sweater and your sleep pants- skin to skin is what makes this work. Don’t look so scandalized! I don’t fuckin’ want you to die!” Castiel pauses a moment before he reluctantly nods his head. He shimmies out of his sweats and somehow manages to push his sweater off, throwing the articles of clothing out from the sleeping bag.

“I knew I should’ve worn more than b-boxers,” Castiel mumbles.

“Oh shut up,” Dean says, sliding forwards and wrapping his arms around Castiel. “Fuck you’re cold! Jesus Christ, Cas!”

“Sh-shut up,” Castiel grumbles. Dean wraps his arms around Cas, pulling them as close together as possible.

“Just a sec,” Dean says, moving back and taking his own shirt off before pulling Cas back to him. “The more skin the better, right?”

“Wha-whatever you say, Dean,” Cas says, and this time Dean isn’t sure if he’s stuttering from the cold or not. Dean rests his head on Castiel’s shoulder, and soon enough Castiel wraps his arms around Dean too.

“Hey Cas?”

“Y-yes, Dean?”

“Why did you say yes to this climb? I mean, you hate winter.”

“You needed someone to climb w-with, so I said yes.”

“You did it for me?”

“Yes.” Dean goes quiet, and so does Castiel. After a few moments, Castiel’s shivering lessons.

“I think you’ve had enough body heat. If you. Y’know. Wanted to put your clothes back on,” Dean says into Castiel’s hair. Castiel pulls Dean closer, making some kind of dismissive noise and huffing out a breath. “Cas? You awake?”

“I’m Cas,” he mumbles into Dean’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Dean laughs, “you are.” Right when Dean himself is about to drift off, he feels Cas jerk awake.

“Dean?” he asks, voice thick with sleep.

“Yeah?”

“Where are we?” Cas asks, yawning.

“Cas. We’re in Russia. Climbing to Dyatlov’s Pass? It’s Christmas break?” When he pulls back from holding Cas, he finds him staring at him, worry in his eyes.

“We are?”

“Yes, we started climbing today, this morning. Don’t you remember?” Cas stops, staring at the back of the tent for a moment before he shakes his head.

“Right, right. Sorry, I’m just…” Cas waves his hand in the air. Dean watches him carefully.

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Should be head back home tomorrow?” Cas’s eyes widen.

“What? No! You’ve been planning this climb for years!” Cas protests.

“Cas, you’re showing signs of hypothermia. The shivers? Confusion? I mean, on any other day, it would’ve at least taken a shot of whiskey to get your pants off,” Dean jokes feebly.

“But Dean,” Cas says, “this is your dream.”

“Yeah, but you’re my best friend. You come first.” Cas cracks a smile at him. “What?”

“You’re a big softy, Dean Winchester.” Cas shakes his head. Dean blushes, not that he’ll ever admit it.

“Well you could die. Don’t see the point in being stupid. We can climb down tomorrow, spend a few days in town, check out a doctor- you speak Russian and all. And if you feel like it, we could try again. Or just go home.”

“You’re very close to me,” Cas observes.

“Yes,” he says, shifting, if possible, even closer to Cas. “Is that… do you want me to go back to my tent? I mean. Sleeping bag. Or you could put your clothes on-” Dean is already reaching an arm out of the sleeping bag and searching for his shirt.

“No!” Cas says hurriedly, stopping when he realizes exactly how quickly. “I mean. Body heat. It’s very important.” Dean puts his arm back in the sleeping bag, trailing his down Cas’s side.

“It is,” Dean says, eyes boring into Castiel’s. Castiel shuffles closer to Dean. Dean can feel his heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears.

“Dean,” Cas says, face only a few inches from Dean’s own, “what is this?”

“What’s what?”

“Is this a poor attempt at hiding your huge boner or me, or are you finally going to kiss me?” Cas breathes, and Dean chokes on his spit. Cas grins in the dark.

“Dick,” Dean chokes, looking away and coughing out of the sleeping bag. His face is beet-red. When he looks back, Cas is still grinning, those stupid, stupid blue eyes on his face.

“I mean, I was only looking for a kiss, but if you insist-” Cas says, and Dean feels his hand trail down his back.

“Whoa there, tiger!” Dean chuckles. “I’m gonna go ahead and blame this on the possible hypo, ‘kay?” Castiel frowns.

“Why would it be so hard to believe I have feelings for you?” Dean freezes. He swallows thickly.

“Uh.”

“Eloquent as ever.”

“Cas, I- I’m not sure…” He can see Cas’s face fall.

“Fuck, Dean, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Castiel tells him, shifting back from Dean.

“No, wait,” Dean says, pulling Castiel back to him. “I’m not good. With words, y’know? But. I asked you to come with me, because… maybe I wanted to, you know, spend some time with you. Alone.”

“On a mountain?” Castiel asks, an amused smile on his lips. Dean shrugs.

“I mean, no one can hear you scream up here,” Dean jokes, and when he looks at Castiel he realizes that what he said would be interpreted as something COMPLETELY different than what he met. “Oh, not like that, you big pervert!” Castiel moves so that he and Dean’s bodies are pressed tightly together, breath blowing into each other’s faces and heartbeats both thundering.

“So,” Castiel says, “you come here often?” Dean breathes a laugh before he smiles fondly at Castiel, reaching his arm from Cas’s back and placing it in his hair.

“You gonna kiss me or what, Novak?” Dean asks. And with that, Castiel surges forwards, pressing his lips to his best friend’s, Dean wondering why they didn’t pull their heads out of their asses and do this years ago. He presses his hand to Cas’s cheek, moving ever closer to him, arm tightening around his waist. After a moment, Castiel pulls back, breathless, cheeks bright red and eyes alight as he grins.

“Thank God you know what you’re doing,” Castiel comments. Dean barks out a laugh. “So. What now?”

“Now,” Dean says, “we go the fuck to sleep. We should get up early in case a storm hits to get you back to town. Don’t argue with me- I want to make sure you’re alright. Triple layers. Extra hot breakfast. Got it?”

“It’s no wonder my mother always thought we were dating,” Castiel mutters. Dean rolls his eyes.

“Shut up and move closer. You need more warmth,” Dean says.

“Is that the excuse we’re using now?” Castiel says, but places his chin on Dean’s shoulder, closing his eyes and blowing out a breath. Dean rests his head against Castiel’s, running his fingers idly through his hair. He sighs, smiling to himself.

“Shut up, Novak.” 


End file.
